


by tooth and claw

by lachesisgrimm (olga_theodora)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Dragons, Established Relationship, F/M, Modern AU, Morning Sex, No Pregnancy, Praise Kink, ben is very soft and loves his fierce wife, imagined monster fucking, vibes to carry into the new year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28488723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olga_theodora/pseuds/lachesisgrimm
Summary: “Do you know what I dreamed?” she asks with a yawn. “It was a good dream.”
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 58
Kudos: 210





	by tooth and claw

**Author's Note:**

> I can't remember who was discussing it on twitter, but someone offered up "Dragon Ben steals Rey for his hoard" and it's been at the back of my mind ever since. This is a twist on that prompt.

He knows she’s awake before her eyes even open: her breathing changes, she stretches under his arm like a lazy cat. Outside the rain pounds against their small house and curtained windows, but inside there is only gray light and calm and her bare foot wriggling back between his calves. She giggles sleepily before he can even kiss the nape of her neck, her fingers curling in the floral sheets.

“Do you know what I dreamed?” she asks with a yawn, giggling again when he nuzzles at her hair with his nose. “It was a good dream.”

“Were we naked?”

“Hmm.” She seems to consider the question seriously. “You could say that.”

“Just a few gauzy draperies, then?” he teases, tugging her more firmly against himself. She’s warm and soft, smelling of a faint hint of lavender and cloves. “Give me a word picture, Rey.”

“Well, you were wearing a _very_ tantalizing red silk robe.” She squirms in his grip, shifting to face him. “You should consider making a change from suits to single layers of silk; I believe you would make quite an impression.”

“I prefer to save all my impressions for you.” Ben kisses her forehead, taking in the crease mark on one cheek, the little bits of sleep in the corners of her eyes. Beautiful. “Tell me more.”

“I was a dragon.” A corner of her mouth quirks upward with satisfaction. “I had a hoard of so many beautiful things… gold and pretty rocks, tapestries and carvings.” 

He can feel himself sweeten for her, melt like sugar under heat (and no one would ever have believed that of Ben Solo, not before Rey) as he begins to understand the implications. His cheeks and ears feel as if they blaze. 

“And you.” She stretches again, and then runs a hand through his hair. “Plucked you up from a field full of sheep and brought you back to my mountain.” Her own cheeks pinken even as a sly smile plays over her mouth, and the foot between his calves flexes into a hook. “We were having sex, I think.”

He had wanted her on waking, he wants her even more now. “And how did that work, sweetheart?”

“I’m not sure.” Rey frowns a little, at that, clearly annoyed by her mind’s skipping of the good bits. “But you were definitely trying to seduce me in those fluttery robes. Whatever we were doing, you wanted more.”

When he rolls on top of her she snorts a laugh but her thighs open for him nonetheless, his hips pressing against hers with only two pairs of boxer shorts separating them (his rightfully owned, hers stolen and barely keeping up around her waist at the best of times). “I am not surprised in the slightest,” he murmurs against the delicate skin under her jaw, delighting in a whimper, “that I would willingly play the flirt for a dragon such as yourself.”

She sounds almost drunk, when she replies, all slow words and distant thoughts. “The best part of my hoard.”

Sometimes in bed she is his pretty little wife (no lie; they have the rings, the certificate, the wedding pictures, though she would eviscerate him for calling her so in public), his empress, his scavenger. He is her good love, her smirking stranger, her lord husband first met at the altar. “No harem, I hope?” 

“My only living treasure.” She makes happy noises in the back of her throat when he pushes her tank top above her breasts and shoves their boxers down. “My-”

She could be fire itself when he sinks inside her, so wet and warm an almost soundless laugh of his own bears testament to his giddy good fortune. 

“ _Mine._ ” Rey clenches at his back, nails biting into his skin and thighs clamping around his hips, and her voice and attitude are fierce in an instant. “Mine, and sleeping with me in my nest. My stolen, beautiful gem of a man.”

He’s crying and he knows why (because who, before Rey, had looked on him and thought _dear and valuable and sweet_ ), and he also knows that he would willingly live in a cave in the shelter of her sweeping tail, her hot breath stirring his hair and her claws gentle against his skin. Her treasure to keep, to protect, to use. His tears, when they hit her skin, have her grip easing and rhythm gentling; he follows along without even thinking about it, hips moving with hers at a gentle rock. The hot lick of her tongue against his neck, her encouraging murmurs, her nails dragging lightly over the small of his back- he muffles a gasp in the wealth of her hair spilled over the pillow and comes to soft, plentiful praise. 

She clambers on top of him when he slumps onto his back, her eyes bright and lips bitten red, and something about the curve of her hips and the sinewy strength of her body makes his dazed mind think that there might be gleaming scales beneath her skin after all. “Give your dragon a hand, treasure?” she asks, grinding down against his stomach, and flashes him a breathless smile. “I do like this game.”

Outside lightning streaks across the sky and thunder rumbles, but he barely notices. His fiercest protector is aflame atop him, and she sighs happily as he reaches for her breasts.


End file.
